


Let It Snow

by Mackem



Series: Imaginary Advent Calendar 2012 [19]
Category: Hellblazer, The Sandman
Genre: Christmas, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 14:44:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/598926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mackem/pseuds/Mackem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Constantine needs a favour from Morpheus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let It Snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [canistakahari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/canistakahari/gifts).



> Every year, I write what I call my Imaginary Advent Calendar, where each day until December 25th I open another day of an advent calendar that doesn’t exist and write what I picture various people or characters in different shows/fandoms/books in a holidays context. This year I’ve challenged myself to write a ficlet for every day. See Vicky panic! They’ll be in various different fandoms and pairings, and won’t be particularly long (except the ones that eat my brain). Enjoy! X!
> 
> I love John Constantine. I love Dream, the mopey git. The world needs more of them together. One story isn't enough! This is all nonsense, mind, and I've not read Hellblazer in awhile, but I've tried!

He's been through these impressive gates before, of course. Everyone has. It's just that he's not normally awake to experience it.

The Dreaming is an unsettling place, but it's welcoming enough. Or it is when compared to Hell, anyway, and that's definitely good enough for John. The incantation he needs to perform requires a non-Earthly location for it to work. The grimoire he's nicked to get the ritual he needs specified Hell. 

_No_ chance. John's not risking another daytrip down there, ta very much. If all this spell requires is a domain that isn't Earth, he can think of plenty better options.

At least The Dreaming is a busy old place. It seems odd that, out of all the Endless, _Morpheus_ would be the one to populate his domain. He’s a bit of a miserable git, though. Maybe having a little company cheers him up.

It does mean there's no way his presence is going to pass unnoticed, not with so many spying eyes around, but he can cope with that. Morpheus is an alright sort, once he knows you. A bit of a gloomy bugger, maybe, but there's worse things to be.

The cawing of a raven above gets his attention as he's trekking through a lush field, filled with rolling hills. It's a bit of a surprise to find what seems to be a bit of prime English countryside smacked down beside some boneyard that's straight out of a nightmare, but the worst it has to offer is grass stains on his trousers and the same driving rain that's pounding down on every other bit of the Dreaming, so it seems the best place to crack on with his ritual. 

He watches the raven until it flies off, disappearing into the distance towards the palace he knows lies at the heart of the Dreaming. That’s it, then. He has officially been noticed. He grins to himself and settles down to lounge in the grass, waiting for his host to appear.

It doesn‘t take longer than a few damp minutes before he hears that familiar, dolorous voice. "John Constantine."

"Guilty," John grins. Morpheus is suddenly in front of him, standing over his prone form. He's wrapped up in his cloak, fire seeming to dance around his feet as he folds it over his slender arms. 

"You are not asleep."

"Am I not? Funny," John says thoughtfully. "I must've missed my evening Horlicks. That usually knocks me right out."

Morpheus just stares at him, blankly. Distant stars glitter in his eyes. "Why are you here?"

"Well, the weather's so nice at this time of year, isn't it?" John says with an expansive gesture towards the thundery sky. "I'm just having a quick sunbathe. Y'know, keeping me tan topped up."

"It is raining."

"Nothing gets by you, does it?" John laughs. He gets to his feet, brushes grass off his trench coat, and grins disarmingly. "And how is Morpheus of the Endless faring nowadays?"

"I am well," Morpheus says, his manner stiff and uncomfortable. John shoves his hands in his pockets.

"Oh yeah? Then this bloody rain wouldn't have anything to do with that witch friend of yours flouncing off again, would it."

The storm increases, noticeably. Lightning cracks in the sky. "We are no longer associated," Morpheus says flatly.

"Figured that one out myself, ta," John chuckles. "Bless you, mate, you don't half know how to pick 'em. Oh, don't get me wrong, we're as bad as each other," he offers with a placating grin when Morpheus sighs. "Now _me_ , right, have a listen to this. I was seeing this lad, right? Nice sort, or so I thought. Half-demon in human form, and o'course I couldn't leave well enough alone. We got into a row, eventually. Said I wasn't seeing him enough."

"Is this relevant?" Morpheus asks. He sounds a bit lost, for all his pomposity. John laughs sheepishly.

"The long and the short of it is, he's put a curse on me. Since I couldn't bring myself to see him, now no humans can see _me_. Bloody ironic curses, ey? They're a nuisance."

"I see."

"Hey, was that a joke? No, silly me, 'course it wasn't," John laughs at Morpheus' confusion. "Anyway. It's not been so bad, going invisible, but we're in December now, and it'd be nice if me mates could see me, y'know?"

"I cannot undo a curse, John Constantine," Morpheus says solidly. John shrugs.

"I don't believe that for a second, mate, but it's fine. I'm not here begging for help. I'll do me own dirty work, ta."

"Then why _are_ you here?"

"I've got the right incantation lined up and ready to go, but there's a catch. It won't work on any Earthly realm,” John explains. Morpheus remains impassive, but that’s par for the course with him, so he soldiers on. “I'm not too keen on marching into Hell, see's as I'm not likely to come marching back _out_ , so I thought you might let me get on with it on your land."

Morpheus stares. "Is it dangerous?"

"'Course it's bloody well dangerous!” John scoffs. “It's magic, isn‘t it? You know full well all magic has a price. But it's only gonna hurt _me_ if anything kicks off. Your lot won't be harmed."

"Are you quite certain it will not draw attention from Hell onto the Dreaming?"

"What could that lot even do against one of the Endless?" John scoffs, but he sobers as Morpheus‘ tone becomes even more pointed.

"They seek only an excuse."

"Ah. Well, I'll be careful, then," John assures him. "Protective wards and such. Circles of salt. It'll be a breeze."

"The perform your ritual, if you must," Morpheus says flatly. John brightens.

"Ta, squire. You can hang around and keep an eye on me yourself, if you like. I know you're a devil for micromanaging. Or keep your eye in the sky."

"Pardon?"

"Your raven friend," he chuckles. "Did you think I didn't spot him? I've got eyes in the back of my head, me."

"That will not be required. Your assurances will suffice," Morpheus murmurs, and begins to fade.

A thought strikes John. "Oh! Merry Christmas, mate!"

"Pardon?" Morpheus solidifies again, that same bewildered expression on his face. John laughs.

"You don't have much use for a calendar, I'll bet. It's December, mate. Nearly Christmas."

“I see,” Morpheus says stiffly, and begins to fade once more. John rolls his eyes theatrically.

“That’s right, just leave, don’t say it back! Bloody rude!” he grumbles cheerfully as he begins to draw a circle of salt on the ground.

He pauses in his preparations when a cold touch brushes against his cheek. The rain pouring down around him has, suddenly, become snow.

John cannot help but laugh with a fond shake of his head. “You daft sod,” he murmurs, and gets on with his work.


End file.
